


Versatile

by narsus



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-24
Updated: 2011-07-24
Packaged: 2017-10-21 17:36:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/227805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narsus/pseuds/narsus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a stopover in Toronto, Douglas and Martin sleep together, quite literally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Versatile

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Cabin Pressure belongs to John Finnemore and BBC Radio 4.

The stopover part isn't the problem for Martin, not really, even though it's till Monday. The removals business has been, while not exactly booming, doing rather well of late and he's actually pleased to have the time off. The only problem is that, having arrived in Toronto, he's not seen Douglas since. In fact, they'd arrived at their hotel to find that only Arthur and Martin had rooms booked at all. Oddly though, Douglas had taken it in his stride, which suggested that the lack of a booking was pre-arranged on his part, because he had announced cheerfully that he knew a decent place downtown and would be staying there instead. That had been on Friday.

Martin had supposed that Douglas might vanish for the night and then turn up the next day to remind them of his existence. But Saturday had passed in its entirety without any sign of Douglas at all. Arthur hadn't been worried but then he'd been off for a wander himself anyway, and had come back with a garbled report of a bike rally down one of the main streets and a festival going on on another one. Information that Martin has mostly ignored, since Arthur might easily mistake any number of things for a celebration of some sort. On the other hand Arthur has mentioned the roads being closed off, and from the vague sense of direction he has, it’s entirely possible that Douglas' hotel might be across the other side of any of those impassable areas. It isn’t exactly a reasonable justification but it’s enough that Martin can persuade himself that he ought to go look for Douglas at least. Thankfully Arthur seems thrilled with the idea and doesn’t think to ask why Martin doesn't just phone Douglas instead.

The road that Arthur leads them to is certainly busy, filled with pedestrians, milling about between stalls and bars and food outlets. What the festival is, something that Arthur had been unable to determine, is rather given away by the prevalence of rainbow and the cheery greeting of “Happy Pride” being yelled between revellers. Martin can't decide if Douglas might be completely comfortable in or deliberately absent from this sort of event. On one hand, reason stands to suggest that Douglas, being completely heterosexual, might deliberately absent himself from proceedings with a casual disinterest. On the other, considering that this is Douglas of all people, he might well manage to somehow turn matters to his advantage, and Martin supposes that perhaps some of the women in attendance might be straight.

“Uh, Skip? This is fun and it's a really great party but didn't you say we were looking for Douglas?” Voicing the question hasn't stopped Arthur from dancing to the music that’s coming out of the nearest bar.  
“Yes. Yes, I'll... I'll just...”

Martin has his phone in his hand but doesn’tt immediately look for Douglas' number. What is he going to say after all? Douglas might just laugh at him or, more likely, give one of his typically sarcastic replies that gives away nothing but nevertheless conveys some sort of veiled insult.

“Let's... look around a bit first.” Martin isn't at all sure if his phrasing everything hesitantly is making any difference to anything, but he can’t seem to stop himself doing it anyway.

Arthur simply grins his assent and continues to gyrate up the street and they move on. The music isn't necessarily anything like coherent at that distance, but the clashing beats as they move pass a different set of speakers don’t seem to put Arthur off in the slightest. They continue to move up the road, through the crowds, Martin occasionally having to drag Arthur along after him. Martin isn't quite sure of what he’s doing as they stroll along. It’s hardly as if Douglas needs to be found immediately. Looking out over the crowds, he wonders if he ought to be concerned about the possibility of finding Douglas here in the first place or being spotted first by Douglas instead.

They’ve come to a stop in front of a booth surrounded by various male dancers in green briefs, whom Arthur seems thoroughly fascinated by, when Martin hears his name being called. 'Martin' is hardly a rare name so it takes him a few moments to realise that the voice is both familiar and getting nearer.

“Douglas! We were looking for you!” Arthur calls out, cheerily.  
“Were you now?”

Douglas is smiling in his customarily superior, but amused, fashion as he looks them over. Arthur grins and dances off in the direction of the one of the green-clad dancers. Martin on the other hand looks Douglas over curiously. He's seen Douglas dressed relatively casually before, which for Douglas usually constitutes jeans and a shirt, possibly with a jumper on top if it's cold. Today though, Douglas is wearing a t-shirt instead, and Martin's gaze is immediately drawn to Douglas' solid forearms, in the same way that it always is when Douglas wears short sleeved shirts to work.

“Far be it for me to break sir's concentration...”

Martin's gaze snaps upwards but something else catches his attention before he can focus on Douglas' face. There's a round sticker with rainbow stripes on Douglas' t-shirt. Martin's noticed them on other people, with various lettering declaring things like 'queer', 'top' or 'dyke'. Douglas' says, in clearly printed letters: 'versatile'.

“It's very... you.” Martin says with a shy smile, finally meeting Douglas' eyes.  
“One would hope so.” Douglas comments companionably in return.

 

They spend the next hour or so milling about in the crowds until Martin starts yawning, still somewhat tired from the long flight and the heat pounding down on them in the sunny and crowded street.

“Shouldn't we... Arthur?” Martin manages, semi-coherently, as Douglas steers him up an adjoining and quieter street.  
“He'll be fine. He might even have found a second job for Canada Trust.”  
“Huh?”  
“With the TD dancers.”

Martin would argue that or at least make some comment but he's so exhausted that he finds himself nodding mutely in agreement as Douglas guides him up the road. Arthur has a phone and seemingly knows his way around Toronto far better than Martin does anyway. The crowds thin out rapidly as they pass a knot of people watching an act on a nearby stage. In fact, within a few meters walk there are only a few passers-by, who simply look like they’re just going about their daily business rather than being anything to do with events on the main street. Douglas slips an arm around Martin’s waist as they walk and Martin tells himself that he’s just too tired to object. He’s fairly certain that his eyes are half closed behind his sunglasses anyway, so it’s only sensible that he let Douglas steer him down the road.

It’s only about a ten minute walk as far as Martin can make out, but the distance seems to do the trick, and it’s blissfully quiet when they finally come to a stop. Douglas lets go of him and pushes an iron gate, in front of one of the large houses, open.

“Douglas?”  
“A much better option than Carolyn’s choice of hotel.”

Douglas leads the way into a very elegantly appointed house. Martin catches a glimpse of the dining area, already laid out for tomorrow’s breakfast sitting, as they make their way up the stairs. He half listens to Douglas’ explanation of the history of the building and its current condition as a very exclusive Bed & Breakfast that’s usually booked up to a year in advice for Pride.

“How did you- You’re going to tell me that you know someone, aren’t you?”  
“A friend of mine had to cancel. He was _very_ annoyed, understandably, but Boeing are hard taskmasters.”  
“Boeing, as in _Boeing_?”  
“Yes, Martin, as in Boeing. Those people who make planes.”  
“Oh, right. Well...”

 

The room _is_ smaller than Martin’s actually been expecting. Somehow he’s always pictured Douglas staying in rooms that wouldn’t be out of place in a Bond film. There’s space for everything of course: desk, couch, bedside tables, chest of draws, TV, DVD player and a rather generously sized double bed. Douglas’ small suitcase is on the floor by the air-conditioner and his uniform has been hung up on the far side of the room. The sound of the door closing firmly behind them jolts Martin out of his observations and suddenly he’s not so sure that that room is quite big enough at all. But Douglas does nothing more sinister than turn on the air-conditioning and then start riffling through the DVDs next to the TV.

“I haven’t watched All About Eve in years.” He comments, putting the DVD into the player and gesturing for Martin to sit down on the bed.

The bed is the best place to see the TV from, and, even though there’s a chair by the desk, it would be awkward to watch a film from that angle, so Martin tells himself. Which is why he kicks off his shoes and sits down on the bed as directed, instead of taking the, probably, more sensible option. The headboard is metal so he props the pillows up against it, before settling back, which is why he doesn’t realise that Douglas has stopped fiddling with the DVD player until the bed creaks and Douglas is sitting down next to him. Then, it starts to seem awkward again, so Martin fixes his gaze firmly on the TV screen and tries not to move.

 

The next time he’s aware of anything it’s dark and a familiar voice is telling him to just get under the covers already. In the manner of dreams everywhere, the instruction makes sense, so he struggles out of jeans and socks, and settles himself more comfortably under the sheets. Unfortunately, the pillows are completely out of place so he gravitates towards the next best thing, which gives out a small ‘oof’ noise as he pillows his head against it. It’s warm at any rate and comfortable so he doesn’t give it any further thought. The fingers that card through his hair and the soft murmur that sounds distinctly like “Sleep well, Captain”, similarly go without comment.

 

Martin wakes, lying on his side in an empty bed, and groans. For a second he’s not at all sure where he is or why he’s here. Then he remembers, and, as if to confirm his suspicions, he’s greeted by Douglas’ voice drifting over from the doorway. Martin pulls a pillow over his head as the door closes. There’s the sound of something being set down on the bedside table and then the mattress dips slightly under Douglas’ weight. Martin clutches the pillow like a lifeline, feeling his cheeks colour in embarrassment. He’s going to have to face Douglas eventually but not just yet, not as long as he can put it off. The smell of fresh coffee fills the room so of course his stomach chooses that exact moment in time to rumble loudly, putting pay to the idea.

“Time to get up, dear.”  
“Go away.” Martin hisses between clenched teeth.  
“And there I was thinking we could-“  
“Could _what_ , Douglas?”

Martin throws the pillow aside and sits up, scowling. Not that he can hold the expression for long, because Douglas is regarding him mildly, sitting far too close for comfort. He’s also shirtless. Martin swallows uncomfortably.

“You can of course go back to sleep if you like but in that case I can’t promise that I won’t just finish off your breakfast as well as mine.”  
“Breakfast?”  
“French toast or North American pancakes. Your choice.” Douglas gestures to the tray on the bedside table casually.

Breakfast does look appealing, either choice really, but that still doesn’t negate the current situation. Douglas moves the breakfast tray over to the bed without comment and Martin decides that North American pancakes will do to occupy his time while he figures out the most sensible course of action.

 

“Douglas?” He begins, still not sure of what he’s going to say.  
“Yes, dear?” Douglas responds absently as he negotiates stacking the empty dishes and cutlery on the tray.

Martin has no idea where to begin. In fact, he’s not at all sure what wants to say in the first place so he simply watches Douglas tidy up the breakfast things. Douglas doesn’t seem to be in any sort of hurry for a response from Martin anyway. Thankfully, due to the process of putting the now empty breakfast tray on a table outside in the hallway, Martin discovers that Douglas is still wearing boxers and isn’t completely naked. It’s a small relief, at least until Douglas promptly gets back into bed with him and lies down.

“What are you doing?”  
“Doing back to sleep. I would have thought that was apparent.”  
“Shouldn’t we...?”  
“Check out’s not till mid day. We have four hours.”  
“But-“  
“I’ve set an alarm.”  
“Oh. Well...”

There doesn’t seem to be much else to do than lie back down again so that’s what Martin does. He curls up on his side, back to Douglas and wonders if he ought to just leave instead. Certainly, what’s just happened isn’t the awkward conversation he’d been anticipating. Douglas’ arm slides around his waist, anchoring him securely and Martin has to admit that it does feel remarkably comfortable to be lying here in Douglas’ arms. Not that that negates the bizarre nature of the situation any.

“We should check how long it’ll take to get to the airport.” Martin says, mostly to himself.  
“Booked a taxi.” Douglas mumbles.  
“And I’m sure there’ll have been a weather update-“  
“Downloaded it when I went to order breakfast.”  
“Arthur-“  
“We’ll pick him up on the way.”

Martin falls silent. Douglas seems to have thought of everything.

“Douglas?” He begins again after a few minutes.  
“ _Darling_ , can we just-“  
“Did you just call me ‘darling’?” Martin starts to laugh.  
“This is my own fault for dating a twink.” Douglas grumbles.

Martin’s still laughing quietly when he realises that Douglas actually has fallen asleep again, if the snores are anything to go by. Then Douglas’ words catch up with him and he bolts upright.

“You called me a twink!” He prods sharply at Douglas’ shoulder.

Douglas rolls onto his back, hooking an arm around Martin’s waist has he does so, pulling him back down.

“So I did.” A yawn swallows whatever else Douglas might want to add to that.  
“I’m not.” Martin grumbles against Douglas’ chest.  
“Duly noted.”  
“Good.”

The snores start up again and Martin finds himself drifting towards sleep as well. His last conscious thought being that he’ll let the dating part go for the moment, though _that_ will definitely need to be addressed, so long as Douglas doesn’t call him a twink again. Because really, if they’re going to play at obvious stereotypes, Douglas is a rather disappointingly hairless sort of bear.

**Author's Note:**

> The stickers with ‘versatile’ on them were one of the new features at Toronto Pride this year. I don’t recall seeing them last year.


End file.
